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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26810695">quick bites</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles'>ivelostmyspectacles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TMA - Human in a Vampire's Domain [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Vampire Bites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:55:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26810695</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why?”</p><p>“It’s best for each of you to get to know each other, get used to each other,” Elias explained, “<i>before </i>bloodletting becomes a necessity rather than a… desire. You’ll know what to expect, and they’ll begin to have a gauge on your reactions.”</p><hr/><p>ie Jon serves his purpose as the human living with Elias's coven</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jonathan Sims &amp; Martin Blackwood &amp; Tim Stoker &amp; Sasha James</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TMA - Human in a Vampire's Domain [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1481039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>154</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>you'll want to read <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576288">manor in the woods </a>before beginning this one!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Like I told him: it’s an interesting arrangement, but you do realize the danger in this.”</p><p>“Of course,” Elias said. A raised eyebrow, barely concealed annoyance, and he continued, “I <em> have </em> managed to raise a mostly organized coven of my own, Basira. Even successfully turning a few, lest we forget.”</p><p>She shrugged. “I’m just saying, it’s different than killing or turning. If you stick to the plan.”</p><p>“Wait, <em> hang on,” </em> Martin interrupted, “we shouldn’t– we shouldn’t just <em> do </em> it for the sake of doing it. It should only be when we need–”</p><p>“Martin, he’s a blood donor,” Elias said, patiently– the kind of patience of a man explaining something three times over to someone who still wasn’t understanding. Who couldn't fathom understanding. “That is, basically speaking, his function.”</p><p>“His <em> function?” </em></p><p>“To put it bluntly, yes.”</p><p>“He’s <em> human!” </em></p><p>Tim laughed under his breath. “Be slightly more awkward if he wasn’t…”</p><p>“We can’t– we can’t just–”</p><p>“Unfortunately, Martin, we are,” Elias interrupted. “If he’s to become somewhat of a permanent resident of our home, we each need to take the time to acquaint ourselves with him.”</p><p><em> “Feeding </em> from him.”</p><p>“Quite.”</p><p>“I’m–” Martin fidgeted, hands fumbling at his sleeves. “I can’t–”</p><p>“Not to worry, Martin, I’ll be watching while this is still new to us.”</p><p>“And are you actually going to <em> do </em> something, or is it just a case of watch us kill him and then have us wallow in guilt for the next time?” Martin fired back.</p><p>Tim let out a low whistle under his breath. <em> “Damn, </em> Martin.”</p><p>“It <em> is </em> a learning experience for a reason,” Elias said.</p><p>“That’s–”</p><p>“We’ll be okay, Martin. Right?” For the first time, Sasha spoke up. She was still looking contemplative from the proposal, but honest as she looked up at Martin. “We can do it. Besides, it’s not like you kill the things we hunt usually. Out of all of us, you’re probably the best one with exercising <em> restraint.” </em></p><p>“I…” They knew it was true. Coming to terms with actively killing to survive was still a lot for newer vampires, and Martin <em>struggled.</em> “Maybe? It’s just– it’s <em> different, </em> he’s human, I’m not used–”</p><p>“There’s a first time for everything,” Elias interrupted, again. “And, frankly, Martin, you could do with some more outside association.”</p><p>“Of the human kind.”</p><p>“Yes,” Elias said. “However, for your sake, we will have you go later rather than sooner. I think probably… Sasha?”</p><p>She shrugged. “I’ll go first. I don’t mind.”</p><p>“Aww.” Tim stuck out his tongue, slinging an arm around Sasha’s shoulders. “Here I was, all ready to volunteer and I’ve been steamrolled.”</p><p>“Thirsty, much?” she teased.</p><p>“Every damn day, Sasha. Every damn day.”</p><p><em> “Probably </em> best to start off with someone who has a…” Elias considered. “Gentle touch.”</p><p>“Hey,” Tim protested. “I’m gentle. I have a <em> great </em> bedside manner.”</p><p>“Mm.”</p><p>“I know how to be <em> tender, </em> damn it.”</p><p>“Right,” Basira said abruptly. “If that’s all, I don’t want to leave Daisy longer than necessary.” </p><p>“Of course. You’re all free to go. We’ll start the feedings tomorrow, but he will need a few days in between, so do keep it in mind.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“Will do.”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“I guess…”</p><p>“Let’s <em> do </em> try to make sure we don’t lose him prematurely,” Elias said. “He could be indispensable here if we play our cards right.”</p><p>“Indispensable,” Martin muttered under his breath.</p><p>Elias smiled as they filed out. “Just so.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I’m… sorry, what?” The passing in schedules was agitating at best when Elias sprang important information on him when he was just about to fall asleep; Jon tried to shove away the dredges of exhaustion and <em> focus, </em> because he was talking about preliminary feedings and… “Why?”</p><p>“It’s best for each of you to get to know each other, get used to each other,” Elias explained, <em> “before </em> bloodletting becomes a necessity rather than a… desire. You’ll know what to expect, and they’ll begin to have a gauge on your reactions.”</p><p>That… actually did make sense. Better to begin in a low-stress environment than what <em> other </em> moments he might be needed for, but… “I’ll know what to expect,” he repeats. “I thought– <em> you’ve </em> already… uh, bitten, me, so… isn’t it just the same? For all vampires?”</p><p>Elias seemed to consider, and then nodded. Just once, still thoughtful. “More or less. But everyone has different… tastes. And feeding habits.”</p><p>“Oh.” God, what was he getting himself into. (And why did he keep <em> thinking </em> that when he had agreed so <em> readily </em> in the first place? It was too late now, and he didn’t even want to leave.) “I… okay, I suppose.” He couldn’t see how it could be worse than the introductory bite Elias had given him, and it wasn’t like he could say no. And no, it wasn’t like he <em> wanted </em> to, all the uncertainty aside. “I’m… hoping this isn’t taking place all in one day?”</p><p>“Of course not. You’d never survive.” <em> Lovely. </em> A lovely thought. “Feedings will be staggered,” Elias continued. “Taking into consideration both your humanity and your, ah, current inexperience with vampire venom. Rest assured you’ll have plenty of time to recuperate between each visit.”</p><p>That was a relief, at least. But then, “am I going to be sick every time?” he asked, dryly, <em> purely </em> because Elias hadn’t told him the first time and it wasn’t quite something he’d been able to let go of yet. Maybe it was childish, but it just– it would have been nice to <em> know. </em></p><p>Elias smiled. Proper amusement, maybe a little pity, but <em> clearly </em> an indication he hadn’t forgotten either. “Probably, for now,” he admitted. “Highly nauseous at very best, but think of it as… resistance training."</p><p>He’d get used to the venom eventually. Jon knew that. He’d been told that much. And the only way to <em> do </em> that was building up a resistance. Which meant exposure. Which meant biting. And he’d really like to get the sickness out of the way sooner rather than later. “Okay.”</p><p>“Wonderful.” Elias said. He stood up, and Jon tried his best to drag himself up from where he’d sunk into the comfortable old sofa to read earlier. “We’ll let you sleep for tonight. Sasha volunteered to go first starting tomorrow. They’ve all fed recently, so you have no reason to worry.”</p><p>He guessed that was meant to reassure him. Maybe it did, a bit. “Right.”</p><p>“And on the illness front, you <em> can </em> take something beforehand, but I can’t guarantee it won’t make you feel worse.”</p><p>“Right,” Jon repeated, and wondered if his thoughts read <em> quite </em> so easily on his face. God, he hoped not. He’d never been good at keeping secrets, but not being able to keep one here seemed… like it might not be a very good thing.</p><p>“Goodnight, Jon. I very much look forward to the upcoming days.”</p><p>It wasn’t as exciting as Elias made it out to be– frightening, actually, although Jon didn’t say– but, crawling into bed after making it back to his room, Jon found he didn’t lose any sleep over the promise of those feedings looming in the distance, nonetheless.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>claws my way back to this au one year later....... I still have ideas.... I want to write them all.... I can make no promises for future fics but I can promise lots of bites and nice character interaction in this one... 👀 anyway each chapter will focus on individual character feedings and Sasha's up first!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sasha</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Welcome back.”</p>
<p>For living in a house of vampires, Jon was really going to have to get used to being startled. But that day wasn’t today, wasn’t now, early evening and letting himself back in after a takeaway run. He jumped, almost dropping the brown bag of overly greasy food, and Sasha apologized, “sorry. Sorry, it’s a habit. We’re not used to… <em> people.” </em> She gestured, and Jon blew out a breath of irritation that was more with himself than it was her.</p>
<p>“No, it’s… I should be getting used to it.” He closed the door, turning to face the foyer. “But you’re, uh–” Sasha was on the sofa, curled up in the corner and looking, well, exhausted. Lethargic and eyelids drooping, hair still messy, but, smiling gently. “… you’re up early, aren’t you?</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she admitted, pushing herself up a bit. “It’s… yeah,” she said. “But, it’s me and you today, so I thought I’d get up before the rest of them. Not that it probably takes the edge off, but… it’s kind of awkward, right? We barely know each other, and Elias has got this whole thing set up.”</p>
<p>“It’s…” He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. And it… was kind of nice, actually; he felt himself relax again, infinitesimally, and even huffed a bit of a laugh under his breath. “Yes, isn’t it? I– I– I’m grateful, of course, this is… this is <em> so </em> much more interesting than I could have guessed, coming here–”</p>
<p>“Stupidly,” Sasha interrupted kindly, with a toothy smile that didn’t bother Jon as much as it should. “Stupidly coming here, you mean. With trail mix and a shitty power bank, even!”</p>
<p>“Yes, <em> yes,” </em> he said quickly. “I learned my lesson, there, no… no generic battery packs from now on.” Sasha laughed, and Jon pushed on. “But, regardless of that, I… this place is unreal? And– And <em> vampires? </em> It’s just–”</p>
<p>“Unbelievable?”</p>
<p>“Well… yes.”</p>
<p>Sasha laughed, resting her chin on the back of the couch. “Yeah. I mean, I used to be the same way. Then, you know, I got attacked and turned, sooo… cleared up those mysteries really fast.”</p>
<p>“You… when you were, uh, turned– was that– was that recently?”</p>
<p>“Nah.” She shook her head. “Or, well, it’s been like, forty years? Forty-five?”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Forty??” </em>
</p>
<p>“We don’t age, Jon,” she teased. “So yeah, for better or worse, I’m stuck at twenty-four. Thank God I got out of my acne phase.”</p>
<p>Jon stared, still <em> stunned, </em> because she was saying she was– would have been in her sixties? Almost seventies? What else could you do besides stare? </p>
<p>It was only then that he remembered he’d gone out to get food; his stomach growled, just then. Not loud, but obviously enough for him to notice– and Sasha, too, who laughed in that sleepy, calming kind of way.</p>
<p>She gestured him over. “Eat your dinner, Jon.” </p>
<p>“I…” Right, the cheeseburger. Christ, his fries were probably cold. “Er, did you want to…” He made a vague noise, noncommental, and turned his wrist towards her. “First?”</p>
<p>“Nah, go ahead and eat. I’m not in any rush.” She settled back into her corner of the sofa, tucking her bare feet beneath her legs. “Fast food, right? I can’t tell which one, though. It’s all just fat and grease, anymore.”</p>
<p>“Was it ever any more than that?” Jon settled on the other end of the couch.</p>
<p>“Not really! Ahh,” she said, leaning over to prod at his sad excuse of a dinner. “McDonald’s, right, right. Used to be a good choice.”</p>
<p>“Used…” Jon trailed off, unwrapping his sandwich. Of course it was <em> used to be. </em> “So, can you… you can’t eat at all anymore, then?”</p>
<p>“We can.” She held up a fry, but frowned at it. “I mean, nothing tastes good anymore. It doesn’t taste at all, really. And our digestive systems are completely trashed, anyway, so ‘til it disintegrates or whatever it does, <em> supernaturally, </em>it kind of sits? Which makes you feel pretty terrible.” She sighed, and dropped the fry back into the bag. “I remember food, though. God, Thai food, especially. I miss tom kha gai. I think.”</p>
<p>Jon just hummed, content with his burger. It was predictable, and Thai food was <em> spicy. </em> Too spicy. But he’d probably get teased over that, the same way Georgie complained at him for refusing to touch Hungarian. He liked safe food. What could he say?</p>
<p>They talked a bit more, mostly about food, and a bit about hobbies– in which Sasha called him out for being about as exciting as <em> Elias, </em> which Jon thought he ought to be taking offense over. But, well… when he finished the burger and his fries were too cold to keep picking over… the <em> point </em> of the situation was back at hand, and so were the nerves.</p>
<p>“Don’t be nervous,” Sasha said, gently, and Jon winced knowing she could <em> smell </em> it on him. “We’re good, right?”</p>
<p>“Right.” He sat up, unclenching his hands from his knees. “Right. How do you want me?”</p>
<p>“I mean, how do you want you? I’m not picky, Jon. Tim, he’ll automatically go for the neck. He’d always said it was a <em> vampire </em> thing but now I think it’s just comfortable for him, but if <em> you’re </em> really uncomfortable with that, let him know. And Martin won’t go <em> near </em> your neck, so…” She shrugged. “I’m fine with whatever.”</p>
<p>“Good to know.” Right, he’d wondered how long it would take for the, uh, neck bite. It was inherently more dangerous, of course, but also… intimate. And Jon had never been good with being <em> intimate </em> with people. “So…” Happier to put <em> that </em> off long as possible, Jon hesitated, and then offered his wrist. “If this is fine?” </p>
<p>“Sure.” She took his hand, resting it lightly in hers. “And I won’t take much, so you shouldn’t have to worry about it, but if something feels off, let me know. This is a learning experience for you, too, and if something feels wrong, it probably is, and you gotta kinda gauge telling us. There’s a lot of stuff we can figure out, but we <em> aren’t </em> mind-readers, and we really, <em> really </em> don’t want you dead, Jon.”</p>
<p>“Well.” He swallowed, trying not to focus on the cool of Sasha’s fingers, and how <em> he </em> looked pale as Death next to her. Visions of being drained dry, blooded and turned. He shoved them away. “I don’t want me dead, either.”</p>
<p>“Good!” Sasha replied, nudging his shoulder. “Together we can probably keep you alive, then! Hopefully!”</p>
<p>“Hopefully,” Jon murmured.</p>
<p>She laughed, good-natured, and then, “I’m going to bite now.”</p>
<p>Jon nodded once, an assent, and then– <em> stupidly– </em> closed his eyes so he didn’t have to watch. Childish, ridiculous– but he still flinched at the bite of fangs into his wrist, free hand seizing around the hem of his shirt in an attempt to not panic.</p>
<p>It didn’t hurt as bad as some things. It didn’t tickle, of course, and it felt… pretty much exactly the same as when Elias had bitten. But different, too, because Sasha was smaller, and more feminine, and the last time Jon had had a mouth anywhere on his body had been a woman’s– Georgie’s– and– and, well. The comparison was running away from him, but <em> intimacy, </em> again. It felt altogether strange. Not bad. Sasha was fine. He barely knew her. It was just still… awkward, a bit.</p>
<p><em> Awkward, </em> to have a literal <em> monster’s </em> fangs in his skin… but then, they weren’t monsters. Not really.</p>
<p>Sasha drank for a moment longer, and then pulled off, a smooth disconnection from his wrist. She licked the back of her hand and wiped away the blood that oozed from the puncture wounds, smiling. Her lips were still a little bloody, but it wasn’t overly disconcerting. “There. Not so bad.”</p>
<p>And it hadn’t been. He hadn’t even really started to get <em> fuzzy </em> yet. Just a little cotton in his head, and his racing pulse. But that was being scared, wasn’t it? “Not so bad,” he repeated, and then took the gauze she offered him. “I, uh– was that… fine, then?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely!” she said. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had human blood, actually, so it was nice. A little pick-me-up.”</p>
<p>“Right…”</p>
<p>“It shouldn’t bleed too long, then I can wrap it up.” She plucked the bandages from the table and started unwinding them. “Probably finish your Coke before it goes flat. You could do with the sugar and, uh, probably heading off dehydration wouldn’t hurt.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m thrilled for the moment it goes to hell in my body,” Jon muttered, but did peek beneath the gauze. Sasha was right. It was already stopping bleeding.</p>
<p>“I mean, it’s fast food, Jon. It was already hell in your body to begin with.”</p>
<p>He rolled his eyes, and Sasha was grinning as he offered his wrist for her to bandage.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I really miss a Sasha who could tear the mickey out of Jon but in like a BFF kind of way. Jon you're rubbish with computers Jon you brought a shitty power bank without testing it first Jon you came BACK to the vampire den why but okay do you want me to show you the restricted books Elias hid away 👀</p>
<p>Tim shall be next</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tim</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim was <em> impatient. </em> He was doing a very good job at trying to be patient, at trying to be polite, Jon thought, but it was clear that he was <em> eager. </em> And Jon was a terrible read on that sort of thing– people– so the fact that he could tell was almost laughable, even when it wasn’t.</p>
<p>The first feeding had gone well; Sasha had been gentle and careful and lovely, and she’d been attentive in the hours that had followed once he’d gotten ill. They’d talked a bit through it, as Martin hovered by with tea again, and Jon had found out more about her. She was a bit of a techie, unofficially worked some IT jobs for people in town and was, as she’d said, a bit of a nerd. Theatre, in particular.</p>
<p>It had been… not fun, really, but Jon hadn’t had a bad time. So he ought not to be worried about the next one, but Tim was Tim, someone Jon took to be a little bit more… enthusiastic than Sasha, a little more unpredictable. Not dangerous, no. It wasn’t… it wasn’t that. But Jon couldn’t exactly tell if he thought Tim was more the soccer player who’d gently bully you or the overexcited golden retriever at the dog park who didn’t know his own strength. Maybe both.</p>
<p>So, no, Jon wasn’t <em> scared, </em> necessarily, but… the typical hesitance and worry.</p>
<p>“Right,” he said, looking away from his phone. “You’re thinking <em> very </em> loudly.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Tim looked up, resting his own phone on his knee. “Sorry. I mean, so were you. So I didn’t want to interrupt your ~texting.”</p>
<p>“I can… wait, how did you know I was texting?”</p>
<p>Tim gestured to his face. “Your glasses. Reflecting.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>“Thought I could read your mind?” Tim joked, seeming so giddy about that that Jon couldn’t… couldn’t help but ask.</p>
<p><em> “Can </em> you?”</p>
<p>“Nah.” Tim shrugged. “Think Elias can, sometimes, but there’s a lot of secrets there that we’ll never know the answers to. But I can’t. I’m not <em> special </em> like that.”</p>
<p>“Can…” He thought about Sasha, and Martin, Basira, Daisy. He still knew so little about them as <em> vampires </em> on top of everything else. <em> “Can, </em> erm, other vampires do that?”</p>
<p>“Oh, sure.” Tim shrugged. “I mean, some vampires have abilities. Usually it’s people that have been vampires for, like, centuries. And some are just inherently lucky, I guess. But not me. Or any of us, actually. We have things that are just <em> vampire </em> stuff, like hearing and sight and smell. But those are senses, and not actually powers. But we can do like, putting a person in a bit of a trance state, for feeding and stuff, and Elias is old enough to compel, and most of us can do a basic glamour now– although Martin can’t. But he’s the youngest.”</p>
<p>“He mentioned.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Tim leaned forward, resting his head on his hands. “Sooo, if you’re done texting your girlfriend…”</p>
<p>“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jon said quickly. Habit. One he wasn’t quite sure why he was still so quick to correct people. “I mean, she– she used to be. We dated? In uni. But not now. Georgie and I, we just… it didn’t work. And she spends most of her time with Melanie now, anyway, so–”</p>
<p>“Wait,” Tim interrupted. He sat up again. “Are you– not Georgie Barker and Melanie King? What the Ghost and Ghost Hunt UK.”</p>
<p>“That’s…” Jon sighed, a bit. How flattered they’d be to be known by name. “Yes. That’s them.” </p>
<p>“Holy shit,” Tim said, starting to laugh. “You are <em> really </em> right in the middle of this paranormal bullshit, huh, Jon. You’ve got it <em> bad.” </em></p>
<p>“No, it’s <em> not–” </em> He huffed, shoving his phone away like <em> Georgie and Melanie </em> had done this by pure association. He wasn’t used to being <em> teased </em> by anyone other than, well, <em> them. </em> He could feel himself <em> blush, </em> dammit. “I’m not– I’m their skeptic friend,” he said dryly.</p>
<p>“Skeptics are <em> usually </em> the ones who want to believe the most.” Tim held out his arms. “Believe now, Type B?” God, that smile was infuriating. And… kind of nice. He was really getting picked on here– by Sasha, by Tim– but it wasn’t… malicious. It almost made him want to laugh, actually, to share in the joke. Almost.</p>
<p>“I’m still gathering evidence,” he said, as flat as he could, and Tim just grinned, like Jon was the funniest thing.</p>
<p>“Yeah, ‘bout that. You ready?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Sasha–” He shoved over, wordlessly making room for Tim. “– said you, ah, go for the neck?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, usually.” He flopped onto the sofa, turning towards Jon. Pale skin and eyes alight with almost hectic glee. “It’s kind of the <em> niche, </em> you know? Gotta be a proper vampire and all.”</p>
<p>“Uh huh.” Jon looked down at his wrist, proper healed now. “It… will it <em> bruise? </em> Like the others.” Not that it mattered, really, it was just a slightly more awkward location–</p>
<p>“Are you worried it’s going to look like a hickey?”</p>
<p>“No!”</p>
<p>Oh, that <em> really </em> made Tim laugh. “You’re worried it’s going to look like a hickey.”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Tim.” </em>
</p>
<p>“I mean, the marks’ll heal fast, but it’s still gonna bruise. Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Goddammit,” he muttered, but still not quiet enough. He hadn’t come here with <em> turtlenecks. </em> Or a scarf. “Fine. That’s– fine.” He’d just stay in the next few days. Who needed groceries. “Go all… <em> Dracula </em> on me.” Jon paused, side-eyeing Tim again. “… was that a true story? Dracula?”</p>
<p>“I meeean, everything stems from something, doesn’t it?” Tim shrugged. “Things definitely didn’t go down like in the book, though, I mean, obviously. Although some things are true. We can do sunlight–”</p>
<p>He turned towards him. “You <em> can?” </em> </p>
<p>“Wait, you didn’t know?”</p>
<p>He raised an eyebrow. “Evidently not.”</p>
<p><em> “Oh. </em> Okay, this got fun. Here.” Jon was practically yanked to his feet, then, by Tim grabbing his hand and pulling him off the sofa. “I thought you were reading our books?”</p>
<p>“I–” Tim was still holding onto his hand. He was… he was definitely the golden retriever, Jon decided. He looked away from their hands to the back of Tim’s head. “I mean– I think most of the ones I’ve read so far are written <em> specifically </em> with their target audience <em> being </em>a member of the otherworld already–” He was still thinking as Tim opened the front door. “Wait, are you sure this is okay?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Mostly. I mean, it’s evening.”</p>
<p>“Tim–”</p>
<p>“And it <em>is</em> like the book, it just makes us a little more vulnerable–”</p>
<p>
  <span>“That…”</span>
</p>
<p>But too late because Tim was already stepping outside, letting go of Jon’s hand to spread his arms. Flourishing in a <em> look at this! </em> gesture and stepping back into a patch of sunlight. He didn’t <em> implode, </em> didn’t start smoking or burning or– or <em> sparkling, </em> Jon thought, sarcastic, and sure, it <em> was </em> late enough that the sun was probably at its weakest, but… </p>
<p>“Ta-da!” Tim <em> beamed, </em> like he hadn’t pulled this on anyone else– oh, but… <em> you’re the only one, Jon. </em> The only who who’d been invited here who was still <em> alive. </em> Or human. So…</p>
<p>“Tim,” a voice complained from behind them, and there was Martin. Still standing a half step inside the door, frowning. Oh. So– so this wasn’t <em> good, </em> then, no matter what Tim said– </p>
<p>“It’s <em> fine,” </em> Tim retorted. “It’s <em> late, </em> it barely hurts.”</p>
<p>“Tim!”</p>
<p>“It <em> hurts,” </em> Jon said.</p>
<p>“Not <em> really. </em> It’s like, a bee sting. I think. I don’t really remember what those feel like.”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Tim!” </em>
</p>
<p>“I’m <em> fine, </em> Martin,” he repeated. “I like the sun, I deal with it. Besides, I’ve got Jon. ‘m gonna feed anyway. I <em> really </em> am definitely okay this time. Okay?”</p>
<p>“I…” Martin still looked uncertain, and <em> he </em> wasn’t venturing further than the shadows at the door, but… he sighed, leaning a little against the door frame. “ … guess. Just… don’t push it, okay?”</p>
<p>“Never,” Tim promised. <em> “Besides, </em> Elias goes outside for days and you don’t ask about him.”</p>
<p>“He’s old!” Martin protested. “I mean, he’s– he’s <em> used </em> to doing things like that.”</p>
<p>“You could’ve just stopped at ‘he’s old,’” Tim laughed.</p>
<p>“I– I just mea–”</p>
<p><em> “Anyway, </em> Jon!” Tim took a step back under the cover of one of the trees. So Martin was at least a little bit right; it had to cause <em> some </em> kind of discomfort. God, but the need to stay in the dark versus wanting to be out in the sun… Jon wasn’t really a ‘enjoy the day for what it’s worth’ type person, but even still. “Bite?”</p>
<p>“I–” Jon looked between them, startled again, and frowned across the few feet between him and Tim. <em> “Here?”  </em></p>
<p>“Same as in there.” Tim sank to the ground, folding his legs beneath him. “Who doesn’t want to be bitten by a vampire in semi-broad daylight?”</p>
<p>“Most people, probably.” <em> But you’re not most people, Jon. </em> He didn’t wait for either of them to say it, just walked over to sit down next to Tim. Maybe it was preferable. This forest really <em> was </em> a beautiful place, and the breeze ruffled his hair with the smell of grass and damp and smoke. He closed his eyes and tilted his head. “I’m ready.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Tim tilted Jon’s head just a fraction more, and rest his hand on his shoulder. “And nervous.”</p>
<p>“I’m never going to <em> stop </em> being nervous.”</p>
<p>“You will, you’re just new.” He squeezed his shoulder. “Take a deep breath. For a count of four, then let it out for four.”</p>
<p>Jon thought better against arguing about placebo effects, and did as Tim suggested.</p>
<p>“Good, nice. Again?”</p>
<p>He did, and was so focused on counting that he jumped when Tim <em> did </em> bite him. Bastard. Although it... had distracted him, hm. But it couldn’t distract him from the pain, now, which <em> did </em> hurt, a– a bit more than the bite on his wrist had. And– and he knew why Tim had been telling him to breathe, to relax, because of <em> course </em> it hurt more when you were tensed up, but it was <em> difficult, </em> okay? Especially when someone was close enough to feel their <em> hair </em> on your <em> ear. </em> The– the closeness thing, again.</p>
<p>He took another breath, trying to remember to <em> breathe. </em> Relax, stop focusing on it.</p>
<p>… well, he tried.</p>
<p>Tim pulled back, licking his lips. But he was frowning, a little. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“I–” The blood tickled at his neck, and Tim pressed his palm over it. “… yes.” </p>
<p>Tim tilted his head, kind of assessing, and then, “oh, you’re <em> embarrassed.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> “No.” </em>
</p>
<p>“I thought something was wrong.”</p>
<p>“No,” Jon repeated.</p>
<p>“Thinkin’ about the hickeys!”</p>
<p><em> “Stop.” </em> He just about smacked him, on reflex, the kind of swat Georgie would have given him if he’d insulted her shopping choices– but right, <em> vampires. </em> Probably shouldn’t.</p>
<p><em> “Fine,” </em> Tim teased. “Let me– Martin, can y– oh. Nevermind, guess I’ll get them. Put your hand here a sec ‘til this stops bleeding?”</p>
<p>Jon did.</p>
<p>“Be right back,” Tim said, already gone before Jon could blink.</p>
<p>Martin was gone from the doorway, too, and Jon frowned, pulling his hand away to look at the smear of blood against his skin.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>imagine Tim's face if Jon HAD smacked him through. imagine his face when the inevitable playfighting begins and Jon's the one to begin it. not today. but one day. when Jon's not <i>new </i></p>
<p>I just love character bonding and want them to have a good time getting to know each other 🥺</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Martin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh, I thought–”</p>
<p>Martin was only looking a <em> little </em> contemplative now, wary like <em> he </em> was the one who ought to be. His nervousness didn’t… didn’t really <em> help </em> things, either. Yes, Jon had lived through Elias, Sasha, <em> and </em> Tim now, all easily experienced and side-effects dealt with. Martin was… not the loose cannon, but just <em> young. </em> So they kept saying. Often. Excuse Jon if he was a little more inherently <em> anxious </em> about this bite. Especially considering how Martin had more or less fled in the middle of witnessing the last one.</p>
<p>“I just… Basira?” Jon said, trying to blunt it into a question and not an accusation. He’d assumed… he and Basira were on well enough terms, hours spent quietly in the library now. Daisy hadn’t been an option that had crossed his mind, considering he hadn’t even <em> seen </em> her, let alone met her… but his fault for making that guess, he supposed.</p>
<p>Martin made a face. “Er, no. She doesn’t?”</p>
<p>“She doesn’t,” he repeated, and then, because curiosity killed the cat and all, “because of me, or…?”</p>
<p>“No, I mean, why– oh.” Martin’s lips parted in a tiny look of realization. “Wait. You don’t know.”</p>
<p>“Know what?”</p>
<p><em> “Ohhh. </em> I mean, of course you don’t. Uh.”  He smiled, face taking on a distinctly sheepish look and Jon knew he wasn’t getting any answers about… whatever this was. “You should talk to Basira. I mean, not just read. I probably… shouldn’t? Mention, I mean. Not that it’s a big deal. But, you know.” He gestured vaguely. “It’s definitely not you. Or you being a blood donor or anything. It’s not like with Daisy, since she’s got the Hunt–”</p>
<p>That was the second time he’d heard that term. Name? The first, he hadn’t been properly listening, but… “Actually, what is that, too? The Hunt?”</p>
<p>“The– God, did Elias tell you <em> anything?” </em> Martin hurried on, “I mean, obviously not, I know. Ummm… well, <em> technically </em> speaking, Daisy and the Hunt, it– this one could directly affect you, so…?” He sighed, bracing his hands on one of the tables. “So, before she… before she got turned, she was… she’d been touched by the Hunt. It’s like us, or, um, Desolation. It’s kind of their own thing with their own powers and… the Hunt is what it sounds like.” He laughed slightly. “I mean, vampires, we’re– we’re pretty Hunt- <em> adjacent </em> anyway? Especially when we… actually hunt? Like, um… like we usually do. But,” he continued, frowning now, “it’s… it’s, hm. It’s like bloodlust, but worse. All you want is the chase, the thrill of killing something or… or someone. Like a feral vampire. But she’s not!” he added quickly. “Feral. I mean. She’s… she’s a bit scary, honestly? But she’s… she’s fine. I like her? I think. <em> But, </em> anyway, she really went after the Desolation when it was trying to start the Ritual, when you showed up? And she got hurt. But her Hunt instincts <em> reallllly </em> came out and– and you’re human, so–”</p>
<p>“So direct contact is dangerous,” Jon concluded. </p>
<p>“I mean, yeah? But it’s fine,” Martin said. “She’s been here in the same house, and you’ve been here, and she hasn’t attacked!”</p>
<p>“Reassuring,” Jon murmured.</p>
<p>“Oh! No! She’s fine, I promise,” Martin stressed. “It’s just an abundance of caution? And, I mean, Elias blooded her, so even if she tried to attack you– not that she <em> would–” </em></p>
<p>“It’s fine, Martin.” Honestly, better safe than sorry when it involved his actual, er, <em> humanity. </em> Interesting as this hidden world was, Jon didn’t have… <em> any </em> inclination towards joining it in any other capacity than he’d already gotten himself into. (Not to mention he didn’t think he’d be able to <em> stomach </em>being a vampire, but that was the squeamishness in him.) “I’m– I’m completely content to defer to everyone else’s judgment. You know, um, boundaries here. I’m just… I’m just the human,” he finished.</p>
<p>“Yeah. That’s why Elias is being careful, with her. Human blood is kind of a rarity, anyway? And we’ve never had a, uh… live-in donor?”</p>
<p>“Well. I’m glad to be of service.” Martin laughed, high and nervous, and didn’t say anything else. Jon continued. “Speaking of… assuming you’re here to, er– feed, then?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Martin drummed his fingers on the table. “That’s, uh, that’s the plan.”</p>
<p>Except he didn’t really move besides that. He just radiated that nervous energy, looking past Jon if he wasn’t looking at him.</p>
<p>Jon put down his pen. “Er–”</p>
<p><em> “God, </em> sorry,” Martin blurted. “I’m just– I’m not used to this? I’m not– I don’t really <em> do, </em> um, humans? Not direct, and even feeding is kind of, I– I don’t know. I know it’s really hunt or die, the… the natural order of things, as much as it gets with the <em> un </em>natural, but I still try not to kill anything–”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s <em> good,” </em> Jon said. “Considering I’d very much like to stay alive.” He kept saying.</p>
<p>“That– ha. Yes.” If anything, Jon’s poor attempt at a <em> joke </em> seemed to break the ice a bit. Martin relaxed, just a little, laughter in his eyes. “Hm. Right. Let’s– let’s aim for that, then, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Setting a low bar to begin with, then.” Morbid, but he didn’t know how to joke. He didn’t know how to <em> break the ice. </em> Jon didn’t do much conversation much at all, let alone <em>casual,</em> and initiating small talk had… always been a challenge. But Martin looked a little less flustered, and the longer they waited, the worse it was going to be. Rip off the plaster and all. He plucked at the button on his cuff and shoved his sleeve up, offering his wrist. “Sasha– she said this is your… usual?”</p>
<p>“Preferred,” Martin murmured, clenching his hands. Then he rounded the table, dragging his palms against his shirt before gently taking Jon’s wrist. Like he was made of spun glass. “I don’t… wouldn’t go near your neck. Tim, he’s, uh… God, I don’t know, it’s <em> embarrassing.” </em> He breathed out sharply. “But he’s always been that way. Bold, I guess. I think I– I think I might be jealous, sometimes? But anyway. Um. Let me know if something feels… off.”</p>
<p>“Right.”</p>
<p>“Or if I don’t… um, nevermind.” He licked his lips. “I’ll be quick as possible.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Jon agreed. He wondered if it defeated the purpose, the point of getting them acclimatized to drinking from him and vice versa, but Martin seemed to have made up his mind; he bit into Jon’s wrist before Jon could even sit up straight, so whatever he might have been about to mention went lost under the spark of pain.</p>
<p>And that… he was getting used to that, now. It registered as a blip of pain that was becoming familiar, but that was it. There was no instinctive urge to pull away, like he might have gotten from putting his hand on a hot stove. It was just a recognition now. So maybe this whole process was working. At least for him.</p>
<p>For Martin, who knew. Because it seemed like he pulled away so fast that Jon didn’t think it could have even made a <em> difference– </em> but maybe that was just him. Because Martin’s eyes were a bit wide when he pulled back, scrubbing his arm against his mouth. Some look Jon couldn’t place, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.</p>
<p>He applied pressure to the bite on autopilot, and looked back up at Martin, who still hadn’t <em> moved. </em> “Martin.”</p>
<p>He jumped. “Huh?” he blurted, dropping his arm.</p>
<p>“Are you, er– alright?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Martin said quickly. “Yes, I– I mean–” Then he laughed, once, and Jon watched as he licked his lips. “I should be asking you that. Are– Are you?”</p>
<p>“Yes. But… that was short?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I mean, a bit, yeah.” It seemed to bother him less than it bothered <em> Jon, </em> but. “I kinda… I’m not really hungry? I fed. Yesterday.” <em> Oh. </em> “But this is more… getting used to the taste of your blood, I guess?” He was starting to look a little sheepish, again. “I just– I don’t think we should bite you just when we want to, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“It’s…” <em> for the best. </em> But why was he trying to tell Martin that? <em> He </em>wasn’t the vampire here. Martin probably already knew it was, or he wouldn’t have gone along with it at all. “I don’t mind,” Jon said instead.</p>
<p><em> “I </em> mind.” Martin sighed, gesturing for Jon’s wrist. He reached for the bandages, continuing, “Look, I know you’re… <em> okay </em> with this, relatively, anyway, and I know none of us want you dead, or turned, but sometimes it’s like I’m the only one who <em> remembers </em> being human? Like… it’s all still there, fresh, for me. I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”</p>
<p>… God, Jon wondered if he was so out of touch with <em> companionship </em> that all of this seemed so very… extreme, to him, Martin’s so sudden worry. Or, after only a week and a half here, <em> was </em> this abrupt? He… he didn’t really know. It was, um, flattering, through, he supposed. Nice. It was nice.</p>
<p>“Well…” He watched as Martin dabbed a little antibacterial cream on the bite. “Thank you for caring… Martin.”</p>
<p>Martin looked up quickly, meeting Jon’s gaze for a half second. Then he was looking away even faster, fumbling at the bandages again. “I mean– d–don’t mention it.”</p>
<p>Hm, that again. It almost looked like <em> color </em> on Martin’s cheeks, a barely there flush that Jon wouldn’t have even noticed if it wasn’t for the fact that Martin was so <em> pale </em> to begin with– “Are you <em> blushing?” </em> </p>
<p>“No!” Martin’s hands flew to his face. “No, I’m– it’s–”</p>
<p>“I didn’t know vampires could blush.”</p>
<p><em> “No,” </em> Martin repeated. “No, it’s just– it can <em> happen, </em> after, I mean, after we drink? If we’ve had blood. That’s how we blush, sort of–”</p>
<p><em> So that’s the </em> how <em> and not the why, </em> Jon thought. But he didn’t say. Instead, just gave a little hum under his breath and took over trying to bandage up his wrist.</p>
<p>“Oh, here. Sorry. I’ll finish it–”</p>
<p>… all in all, not a bad time. Jon relented, letting Martin finish off the binding. He’d been worried for no reason. <em> Martin </em> had been worried for no reason. Maybe he was a little… jumpy… but this was… what had Elias said? <em> ‘It’s best for each of you to get to know each other.’ </em> So, with any luck, Martin would get less… <em> Martin-y </em> about the whole thing, and Jon would lose the instinctive worry, too.</p>
<p>… one step at a time. One bite at a time.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” he said, genuine, when Martin finished with his wrist.</p>
<p>Maybe Martin smiled, still flustered, with that fanged smile, but Jon was getting used to that, too. “Any time.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>meant to post this yesterday for halloween, but between kinktober and ~life, here we are on November 1st xD we hit the trio so that's all for now! some answers given, more questions as well... gonna work more on this au in the future (and hopefully not take a whole year again lmao)</p>
<p>
  <span class="small">
    <span class="small">also I'm so used to writing established JM on the side that it's rough writing Jon being a bit unreasonable towards Martin ahaha</span>
  </span>
</p>
<p>thanks for your support! glad to see you all like the vamp shenanigans as much as I do lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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